Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (7 page)

Her gaze turned toward the sleek black shape of the cat as it slipped from the cave into the sunlight. As though she sensed Seana’s regard, the elusive animal dashed into the brush, disappearing from sight, mewing.

Her da sighed. “She’s gone,” he lamented.

Good! Seana thought. Silly cat!

She frowned down at her da, wanting to berate him, though something held her tongue. If it made him feel better to believe that cat was her minny, what harm could possibly come of it?

Her da sighed once more, pathetically. “I know ye dinna believe me, child,” he said sadly, “but ’tis true, nevertheless.” He shook a finger up at her. “And now ye’ve gone and hurt her feelings!”

That cat had no feelings! But Seana refrained from saying so.

He began to cough again, and Seana fell to her knees at his side, fretting. She placed a hand upon his shoulder and then felt his head when his coughing subsided. It was cool, but then… what surprise was there in that… lying as he was in this dark cairn? She tugged the blankets higher.

He waved her away. “Lemmie be now, Seana.”

“Nay, Da.” She worried her lip. The spirits could certainly wait until later in the day, but the sooner she spoke with Colin Mac Brodie, the sooner she could woo Broc… the sooner she might be able to get her da out of this place. What was wrong with her? What was she afraid of? “Mayhap I should stay with you today?”

“Nay, go work,” her father said, dismissing her.

“But ye dinna seem to be feeling so well this morning, Da!”

“Pooh! I feel well enough!”

She knew it was a lie. She could see it in the paleness of his face.

He grinned suddenly. “Only take care ye dinna sit all day and sip at my spirits!” he warned. “Because I would know it. My Love will tell me!” He cackled at that, amused by it somehow.

Of course he would know, but he didn’t need a bloody cat to tell him. He would smell it the instant she walked into the room. His recipe made old men of little boys and white hair sprout upon the breasts of women! It choked Seana’s breath away when she dared even to breathe it. She wouldn’t touch the ladle to her lips ever if she did not have to.

“My Love tells me everything,” he swore, and smiled shrewdly, waving a finger at her. His eyes shone with fevered intensity.

Seana sighed. “Aye, Da.” What could it hurt to humor him when it him smile so brilliantly? If he needed to believe that ill-natured cat was her minny, so be it—though she grimaced at the thought of the ungrateful beast and shuddered to think her minny could have been so cold!

Seana didn’t remember her mother at all, but her da had always spoken of her kindly. Nay, that rotten cat was nothing like her minny, she decided.

“Ye dinna have to believe me, my daughter.”

Seana smiled and kissed him gently upon the cheek. “I shall return home late,” she said, changing the subject, and felt a twinge of guilt for leaving him at all. But it couldn’t be helped.

If all went well, she would be wed to Broc soon enough and her da would have a real bed to sleep upon.

Resolved, at last, Seana set out to look for Colin Mac Brodie. The spirits could wait, she decided. Her da could not.

Colin couldn’t seem to stop thinking of her.

She had appeared to him last night for mere moments, had impugned him and berated him, and then she had disappeared and he couldn’t stop thinking of that lovely mouth.

He brought his axe down hard, splitting the wood for the new fence posts in one swift blow. It was rotten inside, too easily split, and he muttered a curse beneath his breath.

Who was she?

He didn’t recall her from these parts at all. Where could she possibly have been hiding that he didn’t recognize her face? She seemed to know enough about him, but he didn’t know a bloody thing about her.

Dropping the axe, he stooped to lift up the wood and pulled the good log away from the rest, tossing it aside. They would use it for firewood later. He inspected the rotting wood, found vermin inside, and frowned. Montgomerie had returned the animals he’d raided but the fence remained in disrepair. At this rate, they wouldn’t have it fixed till winter. For every tree they brought down, it seemed the next was rotted. Tossing the bad wood aside, he muttered another curse.

Damned Montgomerie.

How could Meghan go and lose her heart to the wretch? Colin was going to miss her.

Of all his kin, Meghan had been closest to him. She alone had accepted him wholly, flaws and all, and she had known the worst from him, because he had told her all.

Gavin preached to him incessantly, and Leith… Leith was too like their da—at least in the sense that even perfection wasn’t good enough for him. His eldest brother drove himself and everyone about him to death’s bloody doorstep. In other ways, if Colin could be honest with himself, no one was more like their da than himself. He could deny it if he wished to, but what good would it do? He saw the truth well enough.

Their da had had an eye for every wench he had ever laid eyes upon. Colin had learned the ways of women before most of his peers had come out from beneath their minny’s skirts. His own mother had turned a blind eye to his father’s roving ways. Though she must have known, she had never said a word. But it was no wonder that her heart had turned when another man had showered her with attention. It had been well and good for his da to plow every wench in his path, but his pride had been damaged by his mother’s sole suitor and he’d challenged the man to do battle.

His da had lost his life that day.

And his ma had lost her wits.

To this day Colin had no notion whether his ma had ever betrayed his da, but he didn’t think so. Her grief over his father’s death had been too real. His death had stolen her will to live. He never remembered her smiling again after that terrible day.

He never wanted to see Meghan hurt like that.

It seemed to be the fate of Brodie women to suffer for their men—his grand minny Fia, then his ma, and Meghan… God’s truth, if Montgomerie ever made her weep a single tear… Colin would strangle the English bastard with his bare hands.

Not that he himself was any manner of saint.

Colin’s saving grace was that he didn’t drink like his da had. Wenching was one thing, but who needed to wake up feeling the way he was feeling this moment. His head was still aching and his stomach churning and it was his own bloody fault for letting his mystery woman get to him.

Who was she?

The sun beat down upon him and he lifted his tunic to wipe the sweat from his face. The damned thing was soaked with his sweat so he removed it, tossing it upon the stack of good wood to dry under the heat of the sun.

Staring at the wood pile, he lost himself in thought.

So deep was he in his own musings that he didn’t spy his visitor until she spoke.

She was watching him, hands upon her hips once more.

Colin blinked, surprised, and his spirits were at once lifted by the sight of her.

For an instant, Seana could only stare, transfixed by the sight of him. He was a fine specimen of a man. It was no wonder women melted at his feet. His dark skin seemed soft as silk, despite its abuse by the sun. She blinked, trying hard not to gape, and couldn’t help but wonder why Broc had shoulders so wide or skin so smooth that it made one yearn to reach out and caress it.

She forced herself to remember her purpose here, recalling that he was a blackguard, and a wastrel of a man.

So what if he seemed to be the only one working here. So what if she hadn’t imagined he spent his time doing anything more than chasing women.

“Where is Gavin?”

He turned to look at her and his blue eyes were for an instant sad, and then suddenly cheery.

He couldn’t possibly be pleased to see her—could he?

Seana berated herself for even thinking such a thought.

His expression turned somewhat amused at the mention of his brother. “Where else would Gavin be, lass? Studying his prayers and pleading for the souls of the lost.”

Seana’s brows lifted at his sarcasm. “Yours no doubt! And Leith?”

“Cooing o’er his new love,” he replied matter of factly.

Seana didn’t think she heard any note of resentment in his tone, though she was hoping he was regretful.

Her brows knit. “But there is much work to be done here.” It was plain to see. “Why are you working alone?”

“Everyone is away feedin’ their bellies. They’ll return anon.”

She frowned. “And why not you?” He couldn’t possibly be so dutiful. She refused to think of him so!

He smiled and winked at her. “Are you fretting over me, lass?”

Seana blinked at the brilliant white of his teeth. Heat crept into her cheeks. “Of course not! But every man must eat.”

“Aye,” he replied, winking at her, “but my… hunger… is for something else entirely.”

Wretch!

Seana refused to be flirted with. Flattery came far too easily to his tongue!

“What’s the matter, Mac Brodie?” she asked, and met his gaze lest he misunderstand her question. “Did you not get your fill enough last night?”

His smile vanished, and was replaced with a frown. “It was my sister’s wedding. I am not so much a rogue as that.”

Seana’s brows lifted once more. Her hands went behind her back and she stood upon her tiptoes, challenging him. “Oh, nay?”

“Nay.”

“That’s not what I have heard.”

He gazed back at her, but she didn’t care if he knew that she was taunting him. She hoped it frustrated him.

“Well, dinna believe everything ye hear,” he chided her.

Seana had to quash the desire to ask him if he’d heard any rumors last eve. She couldn’t quite suppress the smile that came to her lips when she thought of the scandal she had likely begun: Colin Mac Brodie with shriveled nuts.

The thought almost made her laugh aloud.

Was that why he hadn’t appeased his hunger last eve? Well, it served him right.

Still… rogue or no… he had the most amazing body… God help her, she couldn’t stop staring, though she tried.

Colin didn’t quite know what to make of her impish smile. It revealed a tempest within her eyes, piquing his curiosity. He’d seen lovers with that gleefully mischievous look, but always he’d been privy to their thoughts and their thoughts had always been for him.

What wicked thoughts were behind that lovely face of hers?

And then a thought suddenly occurred to him—she had sought him out—and his smile returned.

She liked him.

It wasn’t any coincidence, he was certain—that he’d never set eyes upon her before last eve, but now suddenly she had appeared to him twice, materializing from nowhere at his side. He damned well wasn’t going to let her vanish, as she had last night, without first discovering who she was because he liked her too.

All he knew about her as yet was that she had a mouth as saucy as it was beautiful.

He wondered if it tasted as delicious as it looked.

Silence.

She was staring at his chest, he realized.

“I was wonderin’,” she said suddenly. Her gaze lifted to his lips, then to his eyes, then dropped once more to his bare chest.

Colin felt a keen sense of satisfaction at the appreciation evident in her glance. She went silent once more, and his lips curved into a smile. “You were wondering?” he prompted, teasing her.

She shook herself free of her stupor, and managed to collect herself. “I was wondering,” she began once more.

Just to see how fully she had managed to compose herself, he flexed the muscles in his chest, making his flesh dance. She went silent again, and his grin widened. “Aye?” he prompted again.

“Aye,” she said a bit distractedly.

“Aye what?”

Her brows drew together when she met his gaze. “Huh?”

Colin suppressed his laughter at her bewildered expression. “There is something you were wondering, lass…”

She seemed suddenly to grow flustered. Color rose into her cheeks. She walked over to the pile of good wood and sat down upon it, staring at the ground.

For an instant, she didn’t speak, merely stared at her bare feet.

Adorable toes, he couldn’t help but notice… and a glimpse of fine slim ankles…

“Well, you see… I’m needing your help, Colin Mac Brodie,” she said at last, and she sounded so disheartened that Colin wondered at once what was wrong.

Sobering at her tone, he went to her, kneeling before her, wanting to reassure her. If something was wrong, and he could help, he would. “What is it, lass?”

She peered up at him, her green eyes dark and sultry, like dusk in the forest, and Colin was at once lost in them.

His mystery woman.

Her eyes mesmerized him.

More profound than any eyes he’d ever gazed into, they were filled with thoughts of which he had no knowledge. Her lips parted to speak, though her words would not seem to come. Obviously it was not easy for her to say whatever it is she had come to ask.

She took a deep breath. “I need you to teach me how to woo a man,” she said softly.

Colin wondered if he’d heard right. His face screwed. “You want me to do what?”